I want to keep the woman imprisoned, and I sure as oblivion don't want to get executed or exiled. So, I tell the Jarl, "Fine, I'll treat her like captured royalty.". He nods and confirms, "Treat her like captured royalty. That's the choice I thought you would take. Move her to the privileged cell, treat her like a human being, and act as if we're at war and we've managed to capture Laila Law-Giver's daughter. As you're aware, the Khajiit shall be acting in place of the daughter. Understand?". I snort and tell him, "Don't treat her like the scum she is, got it.". I glare at him and snarl, "I still find this extremely idiotic. All she did was keep you in power.". The Jarl sighs and once again explains, "She kept me in power, and that's more than a lot of people did. Now, about her sentencing.".

I growl, "Don't tell me you're letting her go!". He waves his hand and denies, "She has done much for me, but I can't ignore her crimes. She shall forever be imprisoned, but people are beginning to wonder where she's gone. The woman isn't particularly famous or important, but she's well-known around the city. She's helped the citizens and even saved a woman from being killed, people have memories of her. So, I'm going to spread the word that she's once again in custody. However, people will also wonder why she's in jail. I can't tell them, and having her under a life sentence draws too much attention.".

He clears his throat and keeps talking, "I'm going to make her have a bail, but it'll be too high for even the queen to pay. One million gold, only a fool would spend that much to free a single person. And, thankfully fools are poor. Understand?". I nod and he nods back, then commands, "Leave, take your prisoner back to your mine". I stand and the healer leaves. I assume he's leading me to the woman, so I trail after him. Sure enough, he brings me to the sleeping woman. He wakes her up, then quickly exits. The Khajiit blinks awake, rubbing her eyes. She yawns, then notices me. Her blue eyes grow impossibly wide, and she begins shaking. I scowl and snarl, "Get up, we're going back to where you belong.".

I refuse to tell her she's to be treated like royalty, she'll find that out on her own soon enough. As we walk I notice her limp, and mentally curse the woman for her weakness. It takes quite a time, but we finally come back to the mine. I take her over to my office, grab shaving materials from my desk, and growl, "Strip.". The woman does as I command, her nudity no longer seeming to bother her. I yank her arm away from her body, smear some disgusting cream on her arm, and slide the blade along the length of her arm. Her thin white fur falls to the ground, and I easily repeat the process. It takes quite a few hours, but finally the woman's fur is as thin as it's going to get. I wouldn't even call it stumble. The woman is extremely uncomfortable without her fur, and I absolutely love it.

However, now comes the moment I dread. Revealing to the woman I can't exactly 'torture' her anymore. I won't say it aloud, but she'll realize something's up when she gets in the privileged cell. Ah well, I'd rather have her find out sooner than later. I grab her arm and yank her after me, the woman shaking. I'm not sure if it's because of fear, or if it's because winter is once again beginning to sink its fangs into The Reach. Last winter was horrible, for a short while I was fearful that the city might collapse in on itself. What the dwarves built was strong, but nearly fifty kilograms of snow and ice undid centuries of work.

My thoughts are interrupted when we arrive at the cell, and I happily shove her in. I follow her inside, locking the door behind me. I turn and see the naked woman cowering on the ground, unsure of what to do. Did I forget to give her clothes? Appears I did. Fine, she'll need to get use to being naked. When the cold finally attacks, the woman will be begging me for a blanket or scrap of cloth. Or she'll get frostbite and lose something, I'm truly not sure which one I'd prefer. I look around the room, frowning. It's beautifully furnished and fit for royalty, but a bit dusty. It reminds me of a cell I once saw down in Riften, the Jarl imprisoned her son and locked him up. Only, these walls are made of natural stone instead of wood.

However, the woman doesn't seem thrilled by her new cell. Oblivion, she looks even more terrified than before. I sigh and take one step forward, the Khajiit freezing and cowering. Pathetic worm, she should stand up for her rights! I shake my head and take a few more steps to meet her, yanking her off the ground. She whimpers and closes her eyes, obviously expecting some sort of punishment. I grab her chin, force her to look at me, and snarl, "This is temporary, so don't get use to it! You'll be fed more often, but it'll be the exact same slop. Your fur will be trimmed, and your claws will be regularly cut.".

I cough and continue, "You'll do the same amount of work, but I'll slightly extend your period of time. When the other prisoners arrive, then your hours will be severely cut back. But don't think you're off the hook, I'll find something else for you to do. Finally, I'll expect you to treat me with the respect I deserve. Do you understand?!". She shakes her head in fear, her toes slightly off the ground. I drop her back to the earth. I offer her one last kick, then turn and leave. I hope that pathetic Khajiit gets a little bit of sleep because I have something wonderfully delicious planned for her. I can only hope she actually believes it, or else my entire plan is ruined. She'll believe it. She has to.

Dovahkiin POV:

I'm roughly woken up, Urzoga's grinning face greeting me. Not a good sign. The woman roughly yanks me up, shoving some clothes in my hand. I look down and see a black dress, black socks, and black shoes. Funeral clothes. I swallow, but dress as the Orc snarls at me to. When I'm dressed I dare to nervously ask, "Why am I all dressed up?". My jailer's smirk stretches all the way across her face, her eyes gleaming with frightening happiness. She joyfully tells me, "The Jarl has demanded your execution. Now come on, time to meet whatever you sick beast pray to.". She reaches for me and I instinctively dig my heels into the ground, refusing to go. The woman chuckles, kicking my legs out from under me. I hiss, flail, and scream as my captor begins yanking me along.

I can't help yelling, "No! There has to be some mistake! The Jarl swore I would live!". Urzoga laughs and retorts, "You're just some filthy little criminal. He doesn't give two shits what happens to you, and I'm going to stuff your head and put it on my mantel. Now, follow me. I want to hack your head off before lunch.". I begin wailing, tears beginning to stream down my face. Dying is one of my biggest fears. I've done too much shitty stuff in life. Hacked people to bits, stolen everything I can, and spitting in the face of the gods. Besides, I'm barely old enough to marry! I don't want to face death, I'm barely an adult!

However, my Orc warden seems to think I'm plenty ready to face them. She pulls insistently on my arm, and I feel my feet come out from underneath me. I can't help crying and wailing as I continue to flail, desperate to free myself. I'd rather have a small chance of escape than face my death with dignity. But Urzoga's grip is too strong, and she yanks me out of the jail. A large crowd is already gathered, a few sipping wine as they watch a headsman sharpen his ax. Three captives are bound on stage, and I think I recognize them from somewhere around Markarth.

Sure enough, when I'm pushed up beside them I realize they're Forsworn. Not anyone I've had prolonged contact with, but I saw them on my hunt for the truth about Cidhna Mine. Seems I've dug too deep, and now I'm buried in mud. The Orc woman chains me so I can't escape, then screams, "Prisoner five!". One man steps forward, surprisingly calm as the Orc shoves his head down on the chopping block. As the headsman raises the ax I swallow, sure that this has to be fake. However, nothing could fake the blood that splatters as the man's head rolls off. I'm briefly aware multiple people are screaming, and snap my jaws shut when I realize one of them is me. I'm screaming out of fear, but everyone else is screaming out of joy. The crowd is going wild, and 'Prisoner six' steps forward to take his turn.

Prisoner six and seven are cleanly executed, Urzoga holding the heads up to the bloodthirsty crowd. She tosses the skulls into the group, the people shredding them apart. She pushes their bodies in the water, then turns back to the crowd. She raises her voice as she screams, "Prepare for the final execution! Prisoner number eight, executed for the murder of multiple innocent citizens and bystanders!". She turns to me, and I freeze in fear. Her teeth flash as she grins, yanking me over to the chopping block. My knees hit the ground and I'm screaming, flailing, and crying as I try to get away.

However, there's nothing I can do. The headsman's feet appear in the corner of my vision, and Urzoga leans down so she's whispering in my ear. She happily tells me, "Have fun dying. Whatever fucked up gods there are, they aren't going to welcome a beast like you to their halls. You're going to die, your body will be thrown in a river, and I'll keep your heads in a trophy. I'm not sure what'll happen to you after you die, but I hope it's something terrible.". She rises, kicks my side, and screams, "Kill the bitch!". The crowd is in a frenzy, obviously pleased that I'm getting executed. I'm not exactly sure what all of their qualms with me are, but apparently I was a worse person than I thought. Then, I hear the headsman raise his ax.

Urzoga POV:

The ax swings down, sticking right beside the woman's head. Her eyes are closed, her face is twisted, and she lets out a mix of screaming and crying when she hears the weapon stick. The crows goes silent, confused at what's happening. The Khajiit's sobbing is the only sound, the woman going limp as she wails and cries. Slowly, she opens her eyes. In an instant she's looking around, her wide eyes locking on the blade that was suppose to end her life. I walk over to her, yank her to her feet, and begin forcing her back to the mine. She's questioning me, but I don't bother to answer her.

Finally, we return to her cell. I yank her funeral clothes off of her, and smell the slightest trace of urine. Disgusting, but slightly pleasing to know I terrified her that much. When she's naked I toss her clothes out of the cell, and turn to her. I tell her, "Don't you dare piss in the clothes I give you again, or I'll slit your throat.". She nods, falling to the ground and cowering. I give her a strong kick, then turn and leave. The woman is still shaken and absolutely terrified. Perfect. Mock executions, they never fail.